


The Sky is a Neighborhood

by CapricornBookworm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Auror Harry Potter, Banter, Barebacking, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Flying, Kissing, Life After Hogwarts, Locker Room Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, Quidditch, Rimming, Shower Sex, Teasing, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 23:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16314611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapricornBookworm/pseuds/CapricornBookworm
Summary: As Harry stepped out onto the Ministry’s indoor Quidditch Pitch, he noticed that he was not alone.High above Harry, a slim figure was flying in a figure-eight design, back and forth from one end of the Pitch to another with frightening speed and yet tremendous grace. His turns were exceptionally smooth and Harry could tell that this man was more than just a casual flyer. Only true Quidditch players could fly with such finesse.





	The Sky is a Neighborhood

****

Harry stretched out the kinks in his neck, listening for that satisfying crack on either side before grabbing his broomstick and heading out of the locker rooms.

It was a Wednesday morning, about half past six, and Harry’s mind was already on overdrive. He couldn’t stop running through the ever-growing list of files he needed to review, the extensive reports he needed to write, or the cases that were dangling on the edge, ready to add to his caseload as soon as one of his current cases resolved. 

The weight of his work felt heavy on Harry’s shoulders. Flying was the only time that he truly felt weightless, unburdened, free from the stresses of life, even for just a moment.

As Harry stepped out onto the Ministry’s indoor Quidditch Pitch, he noticed that he was not alone.

High above Harry, a slim figure was flying in a figure-eight design, back and forth from one end of the Pitch to another with frightening speed and yet tremendous grace. His turns were exceptionally smooth and Harry could tell that this man was more than just a casual flyer. Only true Quidditch players could fly with such finesse. 

Harry took a deep breath and mounted his broomstick soaring up, up, up until he was at the same level as the mystery man.

As the man came closer, Harry realized that this man was not a mystery at all. 

Up close, Harry would recognize him anywhere. White-blonde hair drawn back into a bun, cheekbones sharp enough to draw blood, piercing grey eyes, and a pointed nose. 

The other flyer was none other than Draco Malfoy. 

“What are you staring at, Potter?” Draco spat as he came to an abrupt stop, hovering next to Harry as he tucked a stray hair behind his ear.

“Just watching your technique. It’s impressive, really.”

Draco looked surprised at the praise, but nodded in thanks. “I’ve been practicing. Plus, this is a good place to get away for awhile… Take some time to think. Why are you out here?”

Harry sighed and looked around the Quidditch Pitch, gaze falling on the grass far below them. “When I’m flying, I don’t have to think. For once, I can have a moment of peace from the chaos happening in there,” Harry said, gesturing vaguely towards the exit to indicate the Ministry as a whole.

Enchanted thunder roared overhead and they both glanced up for a moment at the smattering of storm clouds moving slowly into view.

“Fancy a little race?” Draco inquired, a hopeful glint in his eye, “You know... for old time’s sake.”

“You’re on.”

And then they were off, falling into their old rhythm in no time at all, diving and soaring, pushing and pulling, neck and neck as they sped past one another. 

Harry’s heart raced as he followed Draco down into a nosedive, barely pulling up in time before they crashed into the ground. Harry let out a laugh, uninhibited, he held nothing back. 

Harry couldn’t remember the last time he had ever felt so free.

****

When Harry stepped into a phonebooth on Windsor and East Murdoch the next morning, punching in the code for the Ministry, he found himself hoping that he would see Draco again.

Following the War, Harry had become a fairly introverted person, much preferring to spend time on his own rather than around his friends and co-workers. By the end of the workday, he often felt drained, his mind on sensory overload from a full day of interacting with others. 

The Quidditch Pitch was the one place Harry had found that he could escape for a while, could recharge. But the early morning was the only time Harry could find that he could go flying alone. Typically if he saw another flyer out on the Pitch, he would simply turn around and leave. 

Yet, when he had flown with Draco yesterday, he hadn’t felt tired or drained, he had felt re-energized. Draco had an infectious sort of energy that Harry was drawn toward like a magnet. 

Harry laced up his Quidditch boots quickly when he arrived to the locker rooms, not even bothering to lock up his bag before he headed out onto the field. 

A swooping sensation stirred in his stomach as he spotted Draco flying above him.

“Ready to get your arse whipped, Potter?”

Harry let out a chuckle and couldn’t suppress a grin as he mounted his broom and flew up to join Draco, “More like the other way around.”

****

Over the next month, Harry and Draco spent nearly every morning together, playing mock games of Quidditch, chasing after the Snitch, racing, ranting, and simply spending time together.

One Tuesday morning, Harry had been woken up at an _ungodly_ hour when his upstairs neighbor appeared to have started some sort of Muggle fight club at four in the morning. 

Harry spent the better half of an hour trying to get back to sleep, but his mind was awake and his body couldn’t be fooled into thinking otherwise.

Rather than having a quiet morning at home, Harry decided to head into the Ministry, figuring he could get in a bit of practice flying around the Pitch before Draco arrived.

But when Harry walked into the locker room, he was definitely not alone.

Draco was standing next to a bench that ran parallel between a set of lockers, shirtless and dressed in nothing but a pair of tight black running tights that left little to the imagination.

“Draco. Hi.” Harry said dumbly, mind in a trance while his eyes were unable to tear themselves away from the long expanse of Draco’s torso and the low rise of his waistband.

“Potter,” Draco nodded in acknowledgment, a smirk evident in his tone.

Harry shook himself, finally entering fully into the locker room and depositing his bag of Quidditch gear onto the bench. “Just didn’t expect you to be here this early.”

“Likewise,” Draco replied, turning around to grab something out of his bag and effectively shoving his arse in Harry’s face.

In that moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to pull down Draco’s tights and plunge a tongue, or a finger, or a cock into Draco’s fit arse. 

Harry clenched his teeth and began twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands in a subconscious effort to restrain himself. 

Seconds later, Draco was turning back around, smiling wickedly as he realized where Harry’s gaze had just been, “Potter, has your shirt done something to offend you, or were you thinking of squeezing… something else?”

Harry glanced down to where he was clenching the hem of his shirt in his hands, releasing it quickly and feeling a flush spread over his cheeks. “Just a bit distracted.”

Draco hummed, and leaned down to slip his feet into a pair of tall black Quidditch boots. Then he grabbed his broom and began to saunter away, still clad in just his trousers and a pair of boots, “See you out on the Pitch!”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Harry called after him, hating that his voice cracked a bit as he spoke.

Whirling around with a grin on his face, Draco replied, “Not at all. I think playing like this will make it _much_ more fun.”

Harry let out a groan as Draco’s form disappeared out onto the field. He changed quickly, adjusting his half-hard cock in his trousers before walking out onto the Pitch after him.

****

For the next hour, Harry discovered that the only thing more uncomfortable than trying to hide an erection, was trying to fly on a broom _while_ hiding said erection.

“You seem to be moving a bit slower than normal,” Draco teased as he caught the Snitch for the third time in a row. 

“Well, I’m not exactly used to being up this early in the morning.”

Draco’s lips twitched up into a smirk, “I’d say at least one part of you is very much _up_.”

Harry glared in Draco’s direction and dove for the Snitch as soon as Draco released it, trying to ignore how his cock twitched with every sexual comment Draco made.

Suddenly Harry lost sight of the Snitch, quickly coming to a stop in order to locate it once more. Draco looked similarly confused, hovering on his own broom several feet away from Harry.

Then, without warning, the Snitch dropped from the sky above them, moving straight down toward the grass below. 

Draco reacted just a millisecond quicker than Harry, flying after the tiny golden ball with exceptional speed.

Harry was right on his tail, and that’s when he caught sight of something that had his cock throbbing hard in his trousers.

In front of him, Draco was pursuing the Snitch with intense focus. He was leaning over his broomstick, bare chest to the wood, and his running tights had slipped down just enough so that Harry caught a glimpse of his arsecheeks below. 

It shouldn’t have been hot, on most men Harry would have found it disgusting. Except that this was not most men. This was Draco Malfoy, and it was really _fucking_ hot.

Harry bit his lip to hold back a groan as Draco lifted his arse off the broom during a dive, his waistband slipping dangerously lower. 

Just then, a triumphant shout pulled Harry out of his reverie, Draco now gracefully dismounting his broom onto the field with the Snitch caught in his hand. 

“Ready to call it a game?” Draco called as Harry flew lower to the ground, “Or did you want to stare at my arse for a bit longer?”

Harry aimed a kick at Draco before dismounting. “Fuck off, your trousers were practically falling down.”

Draco shrugged and pulled at the waistband of his tights, letting go of the band and leaving it to slap against his arse with a loud _snap_ before heading back toward the locker rooms.

Harry hobbled after Draco, his hardened cock making it exceptionally difficult to walk. 

They both changed in relative silence. Although, Harry wasn’t really changing so much as stalling by rifling through his bag and strategically holding something in front of himself to hide his erection.

Eventually, Draco changed into something more Ministry-appropriate and then he slung his bag over his shoulder, pausing next to Harry before he exited the room, “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, er, but maybe not quite as early,” Harry replied.

Draco let out a delighted laugh that echoed in the empty locker room even after the door shut behind him.

****

As soon as Draco left, Harry let out a sigh of relief, quickly stripping off his clothes and heading toward the showers.

His cock had hardly gone down since they had finished their game on the Pitch and Harry’s skin was crawling with the need to touch himself. 

Once the water was warm enough, Harry stepped under the spray and allowed the steaming water to cascade over his skin, lighting up his nerves and making his cock throb with encouragement as he finally wrapped a hand around it. 

His stomach clenched from the sudden rush of pleasure that coursed through him as he gave his cock a couple of firm strokes from base to tip. He tipped his head back, letting the water run over his scalp and down his back, droplets following down until they reached the swell of his arse. He pictured Draco’s arse in his head and couldn’t help but let out a groan.

Harry reached behind himself with his free hand, first rubbing over the tightened muscles of his arse - sore from the daily Quidditch practice - then he let his finger trail down to rub over his puckered rim, petting and pressing until just the tip of his finger slipped inside. 

“What have we here, Potter?” Draco’s voice startled Harry, breaking through the endless rush of water, his tone a mixture of curious and unmistakably turned-on, “Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?”

He turned around and blinked through the steam, noticing that Draco was leaning against a locker across from Harry’s stall, his icy gaze now much warmer and much darker as his eyes trailed over Harry’s naked form. 

“Were you thinking about me?”

Harry swallowed, avoiding Draco’s gaze even as he gave his cock another long, hard stroke. 

“I would be surprised if you _weren’t,_ ” Draco added.

“Bit full of yourself, don’t you think?” Harry breathed out, running his thumb over the flushed head of his cock as he spoke. 

Draco tilted his head in consideration, “I tend to think of myself as... ‘observant.’ You spent at least an hour drooling over my arse out on the Quidditch Pitch, it would be a shame if you didn’t go wank about it.”

Harry licked his lips, eyes falling shut for a moment as he pictured Draco’s arse once more. Fuck, it really was a great arse.

“Care to see it again?” This time Draco’s voice was closer, and when Harry opened his eyes he saw that Draco was now shedding his clothes.

“Wouldn’t mind it,” Harry admitted. 

Draco smirked and huffed out a laugh as he toed off his shoes and stepped out of his trousers.

As Draco stepped into the shower stall, Harry reached out a hand to touch him, but Draco took a step back “Ah-ah, I’d actually like you to continue what you were doing before you knew I was here… just with a bit of real-life inspiration to help you along.” 

At that, Draco turned to place his hands on the tiled-wall opposite Harry and arched his back, his arse sticking out in a way that made Harry’s mouth water.

“ _Fuck_ that’s sexy.”

Draco turned to look over his shoulder at Harry, a mischievous twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his lips, “Tell me what you wanna do to me.”

Harry took a moment to just let his mind wander and his gaze explore every inch of Draco that he could see, from his slim calves to his toned thighs all the way up to that plump arse. He even had a pair of dimples resting just above his arse, and Harry couldn’t help but think that they would be the perfect place for his thumbs to rest as he ploughed inside of Draco. 

“I want to fuck you until _you’re_ the one having a hard time riding a broomstick.”

Draco wiggled his arse in acknowledgment.

“I want to spread those cheeks and rim you until you're practically crying for a release, begging for my cock inside of you.”

Harry watched a shudder move through Draco’s body, watched as Draco reached down and began stroking his own cock to Harry’s fantasy.

“Bet you’d love to be tied up,” Harry commented, imagining how pretty Draco would look with his wrists and ankles tied up with bright red rope, his long body surely flexible enough to be tied into any number of positions. 

Draco moaned this time, and Harry swore he saw Draco’s hole pulse as though it quite liked the idea as well. 

“You probably would love to gag me, wouldn’t you, Potter?” Draco suggested, turning around so that Harry could see just how hard he was. “You probably would give anything to shut me up.”

Harry shook his head, “No, actually,” then he gave his cock a squeeze at the base to keep from coming at the sight of Draco’s flushed length, “I like you mouthy.”

A beat passed where Harry and Draco stared at one another, the water falling between them like a barrier, the sexual tension so thick it nearly sucked the air out of Harry’s lungs.

But then Draco was surging forward and Harry met him with equal force, their lips coming together in a hot, wet, open-mouthed kiss, tongues sliding sensually over one another as their moans echoed off the tiles and steam rose off their skin.

It didn’t take long for parts of Harry’s fantasy to come true. 

Eventually Harry broke off their kiss and pushed Draco back toward the tiled wall, getting down onto his knees behind him and spreading the toned cheeks of his arse to admire his smooth pink hole before laving over Draco’s rim with his tongue.

Harry shut his eyes and got lost in the sensation of Draco’s hole clenching down around his tongue, got drunk off of the sound of Draco’s curses and whimpers above him. 

When Draco’s toes were curling into the floor and his body was practically shivering with desire, Harry took pity on him and stood up, conjuring lubricant wandlessley into the palm of his hand.

“Bit of a showoff,” Draco muttered.

“Bit of a brat,” Harry retorted as he slipped a slick finger just past Draco’s rim.

When Harry finally slid inside of him, it was as though the world had shifted on its’ axis, right was left, up was down, and bad was oh-so-very _good_.

It turned out that Harry’s thumbs really did fit perfectly in Draco’s dimples, giving him the stability he needed to fuck Draco hard and fast, the obscene slap of hips against arse ringing rhythmically throughout the locker room. 

Draco came first, his cock streaking come across the tiled floor after a particularly hard thrust to his prostate.

When Harry came, a pulse of euphoria shot through his body, lighting him up from the inside out, making him feel weightless and invincible, his heart pounding with a mixture of emotions as his cock throbbed inside of Draco’s arse.

Harry pulled out shortly afterwards, watching with satisfaction as come dripped out of Draco’s arse to mingle with his own release on the tile. 

Then Harry pulled Draco in for a kiss, this one much sweeter and more controlled than their last one. 

As Harry pulled reluctantly away from Draco’s lips, he caught Draco’s eye and leaned in to whisper, “Same time tomorrow?”

Draco shook his head and let out a small laugh, “You’re a complete idiot, Potter. But yes. Same time tomorrow.”

****

**Author's Note:**

> Title from ‘The Sky is a Neighborhood’ by The Foo Fighters.
> 
> I had so much fun writing this fic. Hope you all enjoy it! 
> 
> Comments and kudos seriously make my world a better place <3


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